Eulogy For An Angel
by ashlyns
Summary: Jack Sparrow has survived curses, evil dead, women and even death, Now, with the help of old friends and a few other crazy people, he again sets out on a dangerous mission. On an island where the gap between life and death is next to nothing
1. Default Chapter

Hey everyone! I didn't say it on the main page but this is the Sequel to my story, The Fated Partings. Don't worry, it can be a stand alone fic because I will explain everything again but if you want you can go and read that one first and understand it a little bit more! Enjoy!

**Chapter One: The Light**

The _Night'n Gale_ cut through the ocean like a sword, her prow turning the water around her like the blood on blade as she cut towards her destination, the Island of Light. Brian Williams stood at the side with some of the other unneeded crew; his bare chest hair standing on end with excitement and cold as a chilly wind blew from the north.

Behind him, his best friend, Jack was puffing and heaving, lifting down heavy boxes to the men in the bottom quarter of the ship, high explosives inside the crate. "You do realize I could use a hand." Jack said, tearing Brian's attention from the nearing island. "I know you're captain's special boy but we would rather not blow ourselves to tiny slimy bits because we dropped one of these heavy creates here…and it would mess up you're hair." He blew a strand of dark brown hair out of his face.

"And mine." Peter Carey, another young man their age agreed, smiling at Jack as he smoothed his red hair back from his face. "And my complexion is all wrong for a red and black charred face." Jack handed the crate down to the man beneath, laughing.

"Oh, very funny." Brian snapped but he couldn't hide his humor as he stepped from the railing. Finally, he to smiled and ran a hand over his face, "You're just jealous."

"Of what?" Jack asked, "You're beautiful eyes?"

"Or your wonderful figure?" Harry Brown, who had been working aft, now joined them and they all broke into raucous peels of laughter again.

The captain watched the young men from the wheel, his red sash blowing about his face. Mac, his first mate, joined him also watching the boys and looking grim. "Told ye we shouldn' 'ave brough' those young lads board Cap'n." He said, indicating them laughing and cracking jokes below. "Wha' 'ave they got ta offa, huh?"

"Harry's got muscle." Mac said, watching the dark young man. Compared to the others he was positively a giant at six feet with bulging muscles visible under his billowing white shirt. Black hair sprouted from his face around blue eyes and he had an infectious smile. A young man like that was sure to go places in the world. He could easily get on Blackbeard's crew and they were lucky to have him.

"Young Peter's got spirit." The old Captain continued. "He can take any situation and turn it into humor of some kind."

"Spirit yes, Cap'n. I don' trust 'im though…'is eyes is where it tis." Mac growled, watching Peter with a strange look on his face. The captain had to admit Peter did have an odd intelligence about him and that look was a set for mutiny no doubt. He'd always watched him though and as long as he had his other friends with him, the captain didn't think anything would happen.

"Jack will look after him." The captain said, indicating the longhaired, tanned, high cheekboned young man. Jack at the moment was talking and leaning on Brian, his near perfect teeth glinting in the sun. "Jack's tough and true…terribly intelligent."

"Bit daft." Mac said. The captain nodded.

"That's what he wants you to think, that's how he reels you into a false sense of security. He knows almost everything that happens around him." Jack, at that moment, looked over. Mac tried to hide the fact that he'd been watching but the captain didn't. He held Jack's gaze for a moment before the young man looked back to his friends and forced another laugh. The captain could tell though that he was still watching them.

"And then there's Brian." The captain continued after a short pause. The blond haired young man Jack was leaning on was so loving and gentle; it was amazing he was a pirate and not something sappier, less dangerous…a blacksmith or something. He had enough muscle but the heart was too much. "He's just got something."

"Yeah, no brain an' a weak 'ead." Mac growled, clenching his fists. The captain shook his head and smiled.

"I'll be getting myself a better ship soon, ditch this one." He announced. "The Navy's looking too hard for this one." Mac nodded knowingly.

"Aye captain." He said, "A' what of the crew?"

"They'll stay here, under me." The Captain answered. He pushed back the tendrils of his red bandana and tugged at the thick black sash around his waist. Jack and Harry had gone back to work, Peter was walking away across the deck and Brian had again turned to the island. "They're a good crew. How long until we reach the island?"

"Not to long, Cap'n." Mac answered. The Captain smiled and nodded.

"Get ready to leave, ready the boys." He said. With a nod, the first mate left.

Jack took in a deep breath and tripped trying to get out of the rowboat bringing peels of laughter from his friends. He smiled and picked himself up, dusted himself off and made his way up the beach as though nothing had happened and crew around him got out to.

Brian caught up, laughing, and clapped him on the back as the other two huffed along behind them, nearly doubled up in silent giggles. "I really don't know what you're all finding so funny." Jack said monotonously, pushing Brian backwards into Peter. "Personally, I saw nothing more amusing then your faces."

"Ouch." Harry laughed, clasping his heart as though Jack had pierced it. "Good one, but not one of your best Kiddie!" David came up beside him and leaned his arm on Jack's shoulder.

"No, definitely not." The boys started laughing, all except Jack who pushed Brian away and made his tipsy progress towards the rest of the crew. The Captain reached out and grabbed Jack's long hair, halting him as he passed.

"Child, you take three men of your choice and go explore. Find anything you can for food and report back to me immediately." Jack tried to hide the look of mischief he could feel washing over him. Was the Captain stupid? Let them, go alone…to explore? Nodding, Jack turned and went back to the others who were now making fun of a shell on the beach. It was a cone shape with two lumps at the end.

"You know…it really does look like one." Harry was saying. Jack, catching on right away, sighed.

"It's kinda small. Peter, you must be jealous." Peter gave him a sarcastic smile. "Okay, let's go."

"Where?" Brian asked. Jack didn't answer. Instead, he walked to the other end of the beach and disappeared into the trees.

"Jack!" Peter grabbed him from behind and tried to halt him but Jack pulled away and continued along, pushing through dense bush and thick yellow/green grass that tangled around his feet and threatened to trip him up. Harry hacked at it with his sword behind but Jack didn't bother, his eyes were on the towering green hills and mountains high above him.

"Jack, were are we going?" Harry asked. Jack pointed ahead and kept walking. As the youngest crew members, most people expected them to be worthless but Jack knew different. They were headed to the hills where there would be fruit growing on the trees hidden on the slopes.

They pushed on silently for a time until they were in the shadow of the hills and the sun was falling in the sky and descending towards the tree line. Finally, Peter whined, "I'm so board, Jack, where are we going?"

"Over…" Jack started but, as he pushed through a bunch of thick brambles, he stopped with a gasp and his voice turned silent. "There…"

Ahead of them was a large mountain and a gapping hole. It cut deep into the side with jagged rocks and cones coming down like teeth. To Jack, it looked like the gapping mouth of some large animal ready to swallow him up and eat him the first chance it got but, with the Caribbean heat low on his neck, the blackness inside seemed cool and forgiving.

Harry grabbed his shoulder and peered at the cave. "There. We'll go there." He said. Knocking Jack out of the way, he walked swiftly across the field and entered the cave. The others followed slowly, Jack straying behind, eyeing the cave suspiciously. Harry's echoing voice floated out to them. "It's very nice in here." He called, coming back to the cave mouth. "Dark, but nice."

"Wait." Brian said. He went to the edge of the woods around them and began tugging on weeds and sticks. When he was done, he'd created a makeshift torch which he lit using two striking stones. "This will do."

The three of them tool off into the cave leaving Jack standing outside, alone. He had an uneasy feeling suddenly, as though his life would begin and end here. After a few minute, Peter poked his head out.

"Hey, are you coming or are you going to stand out here?" Jack sighed and entered the cave. He was wrong. It wasn't cool inside but…body temperature, as though the cave sustained itself. He joined the others who were grouped in front of a cave wall, staring at it. Jack looked up and saw by the flickering light, paintings on the surface.

There was a light, as bright as day drawn on the wall. On the left side of the ball of light was a young girl, no older then seven, with long blond hair. Her skinny white face was broken into a smile which lit up twinkling blue eyes. On the right hand side of the light was the same young girl, her hair was black this time and grey eyes stared back at them. No smile lit her face but she looked wasted and…evil.

"She…she looks like my wife." Brian whispered. "Like my wife, Sara." Jack shook his head and shrugged, having never seen Brian's wife, he wasn't to certain on it. "Only younger."

"Huh." Peter said. He grabbed the torch from Harry and began heading down the cave's long rock hallway. Having no light, the others followed. They walked for a few more minutes before Peter stopped and pointed ahead.

"There's something…" He whispered. Jack stood on his tip-toes and looked over his shoulder to better see the pedestal in front of them. In the middle of the pedestal was a fountain but it pumped not water with the beats as spaced as a heart, but blood. Harry moved around Peter and held out his hand, moving it through the blood. He pulled away with a disgusted sound and wiped his hand on his white shirt, leaving a long red smear.

"It is blood." He whispered as though to himself. "It flows like a heartbeat."

"Well, that's gross." Peter said. He stepped around the pedestal and off down the hall. It didn't take them long until they reached a large cavern. A sudden draft of air hit them and the torch went out but they didn't need it anymore. There, in the middle of the chamber, surrounded by slick black rocks and rippling black water was a shimmering orb, as depicted on the wall. It was suspended over the water but cast no light on it's black surface. The bright white of it seemed only to hurt their eyes and light op the room but, in the water, there was no image of it.

"That was on the wall." Harry said. Jack was the first to push past them. He edged his way carefully along the slippery rocks towards the black water. He reached out a hand and let his hand fall into the pool. It was cold as ice on the surface but as his hand sunk lower, it grew warmer. He pulled his hand away suddenly as a small female voice filled his head.

"Jack." It called. Jack stared up at the light, ignoring his friends who had now joined him. "Jack, come to me." He shuddered and beside him the others did to. Suddenly, the light grew. It encompassed him, searing his body and piercing his heart. Screaming, he couldn't hear his own voice, only the rushing sound of the light and the giggling of a small girl.

As soon as it had started, it stopped and Jack felt the water all around him. He didn't know if he were upside down, right side up or sideways. It was all dark. Striking out, he pushed in the direction he believed was up and felt the water growing colder until suddenly his head broke the surface and he was staring upwards at the light. Harry, Peter and Brian had also surfaced, confused and afraid. When he saw Jack, Brian cried out and struck out, grabbing him. Together, they got to the slippery rocks and crawled up.

"What happened?" Harry asked. His question went unanswered. Shaken, the young men crawled from the cave and entered the dark hallway. They groped blindly, Jack running into the bloody pedestal. He felt warmth washing over his stomach but he ignored it and staggered around it, reaching out for the wall. In complete darkness, they managed to find their way to the mouth of the cave and fell there, on the floor, panting.

"What happened?" A voice asked. Jack opened his eyes and squinted against the sunlight all around him. The Captain was standing over them. Jack couldn't speal, he felt weak and shaky. The Captain saw the blood all over him and fell to his knees at his side, groping wildly at his shirt. He pulled at the fabric and managed to see his stomach below.

"I'm not hurt." He gasped. The Captain let him go and felt his forehead.

"He's fevered." He said, looking over his shoulder. The other men who were checking out Harry, Brian and Peter nodded.

"They are two, sir." They reported. The captain wiped at the dangling beads in his hair and pulled Jack to his feet.

"Come then, back to the ship and make haste." He turned and began walking to the beach. Jack followed first, supported between two other men. Next came Harry and Brian but Peter wouldn't allow himself to be touched. Jack pulled away and looked back at his friend.

"Peter, come on." He called. Peter looked up sadly, and then turned to the cave. Jack glanced at it briefly and then allowed himself to be pulled away.

Peter watched the cave for another long moment and then left on his own, without help. There was something he had to do.

**I hope you enjoyed it and I'll try to update soon! Thanks!**


	2. Victoria

Hey everyone! This chapter is just really a filler chapter. I hope you like it. Sorry for taking so long, you all know how life is…stupid life, getting in the way. No, I'm kidding, I love life. I hope you like it, the adventure should get underway shortly.

Chapter Two: Victoria

Twenty Years Later:

Anamaria leaned on the wheel of the Black Pearl and swore under her breath. Deep fog held the town of Tortuga under hostage. It plumed and swam in tendril up and down the deck of the ship and across the sea so deeply Anamaria couldn't see where she was steering. Now they waited somewhere off the shore until it cleared and they could dock properly.

Moving away from the wheel, she stepped lightly down the stairs and walked swiftly towards the captain's cabin. There was silence on the other side of the door and an acute crispness to the air leaking through it. Jack had been in a foul mood all day and had retreated to his cabin a few hours ago.

Taking a deep breath, Anamaria knocked on the door and was greeted by silence. She knocked again, harder but there was still nothing. Making up her mind, she pushed into the room.

Jack was at a table in the corner, hunched over a few maps and a dying candle. He didn't look up until she had shut the door and locked it behind her. "What do you want?" He growled. Anamaria said nothing but crossed the room and stood at his shoulder, eyeing the maps. "I said, what do you…"

Reaching down, she placed a hand firmly on his mouth, silencing him. "The fog is still to thick to see Tortuga." She dropped her hand. "I thought you'd be wanting some company."

Jack smiled slightly and got to his feet. Towering over her, he raised a dark eyebrow. "You're wrong." He said. Anamaria laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him close. She kissed him softly on the lips before he grabbed her and threw her onto the bed. Her hold on him, however, was strong and he landed next to her, laughing. They were just getting started on what promised to be a good time waster when there was another knock on the door and Gibbs' voice came in through the door.

"Sir, the fog is breaking." Jack pounded a fist on the mattress and got to his feet, pulling his shirt back over his head. Anamaria groaned and stared at the ceiling. If Gibbs' voice wasn't a sufficient mood breaker, she didn't know what was.

The men on deck were shouting orders and rushing around when Jack and Anamaria rejoined them. The land was just visible nearby through the white mist. They'd be able to dock and get supplies.

"Alright, ladies and gentlemen." Jack called. The men chuckled and leaned on the railing. "We take three boats down. Five men to a boat. Find what you can and meet back here at noon."

Some scattered cheers and grumbles issued across the deck but the good captain ignored them. He went with Anamaria, Gibbs, Stebbins and Christopher. The town was bathed in mist but it really didn't bother them at all.

Tortuga was as Jack had always loved only the day time was a little more tame then the night life. Prostitutes were aplenty, drunks stumbled here and there, the occasional sailor was passed out with a donkey in a hay stack and old men pinched young ladies (and men's) rears. It was home sweet home. If he's been paying even the slightest bit of attention, Jack would have noticed the dark figure watching him from the shadows of buildings as they moved up the street…

Port Royal was quiet for the noon. A storm earlier that morning had driven most people into the shelter of their homes or shops but Will Turner wasn't one of them. He moved through the now drizzling rain easily, side stepping muddy patches and other soaked people.

His smithy was like a cold sanctuary from the even colder rain outside. He was glad he'd fixed the holes in the roof the other day but some rain still managed to come in through the beams above him. Rubbing his hands on his arms, he crossed the forage and opened the stall at the other in, pulling out the donkey. The old one had died a few years ago, much to his young daughter's displeasure, but she'd renamed the new one…Jack of all things.

Will smiled, thinking of the name's irony and hooked the animal up to the special machine he'd constructed. Swords and hammers hung above his head and he had to duck to avoid them as he made his way back into the deeper parts of the forage.

The work was slow that day, mostly just fixing a few swords from the Navy's armory. He wasn't even paying attention to his surroundings, or the time, before a small voice was screaming at him. Turning, he saw his daughter, Ruth, standing beside the doorway.

She was now five years old, small and skinny. Her blue dress lit up her small, round, tanned face and dark brown hair hanging in natural curls around her face. Will smiled and set down his tools, moving across the room and pulling her into his arms.

"What are you doing here, Ruthy?" He asked, bringing her over to the fire. She small dress was a little damp but not enough to signal that she had walked here unprotected. "Where's your mother?"

"She's with the Commodore outside." She answered, staring at the fire. "She's laughing." Will chuckled and set her down on a chair beside the fire to dry her off.

"She's laughing? Let me guess, I'm late for lunch." He picked up the sword he'd been working on and set it to the far edge of the fire so it could cool. Putting his tools away, he glanced out the window and saw just the grey clouds and drizzle.

"Yes, an hour or so." Ruth answered. Her short legs were swinging erratically

over the edge of the chair and she was playing with her fingernails. "Mother was con…compla…"

"Complaining?" Will asked, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning on a beam in the middle of the room. Ruth nodded. "I'm sure she was."

"And what is that supposed to mean, Will Turner?" A female voice asked. Will looked up, startled, and found his wife standing there staring at him grimly as she folded up her umbrella. Will gulped and felt a smile spreading across his face.

"Um…well…" Elizabeth walked down the ramp, shaking her umbrella free of all water drops. "What did the Commodore want?"

Elizabeth clucked her tongue and shook her head, glancing at Ruth who had moved from her chair to the donkey in the corner. She was patting it on the nose gently and not paying the slightest bit of interest to her parents. Elizabeth grabbed Will's arm and moved him to a far corner.

"Apparently, Jack attacked a ship that was off limits by the Navy's standard." She whispered. Will felt a smile creeping across his face but he held it back. Weren't all ships off limits? "It was a Spanish ship bound for here, carrying weapons. He's not very happy."

"Well, it's been five years since he's seen Jack. If he hasn't caught him by now…" Will laughed and earned a reproving glare from his wife. "Come on Elizabeth, Jack's an escape artist. I wouldn't worry."

"It's not Jack I worry for." Elizabeth answered. "He's going too far. James may have pardoned him last time but that got to his head." Will shrugged and was about to answer when a small hand tugged on his sleeve. Looking down, he smiled at Ruth who was staring up at him through deep brown eyes.

"I'm getting hungry." She said moaned. Will looked up at Elizabeth who shrugged.

"We haven't eaten yet." She said. Will felt a twinge of guilt. Reaching down, he swept the small girl into his arms.

"Well, then." He laughed. "We must hurry and get you something to eat." They were just about to leave when the donkey let out a shrill bray. "Oh, yeah…" Will set Ruth down and went back into the shop. He undid the animal, placed it in it's pen and closed the door. "Sorry Jack." He said. "You sure do complain a lot, don't you?" With that, he left with his family.

"Jack, please stop complaining." Anamaria moaned. They'd been in Tortuga for a few hours now and it seemed like that's all he had been doing! He complained about the lack of noise and then that there was to much. He complained about the weather, he complained about the drunks and the sober people. Hell, he complained about his complaining!

Jack closed his mouth and moved swiftly across the dock behind her. His crate was getting very heavy and he opened his mouth to complain about that to, when a woman stepping in front of him. Jack stopped, surprised, and waited for her to pass…but she didn't.

"Are you lost?" Jack asked. The woman stared at him as though she were surprised by his question.

"No…" She said uncertainly. Behind her, Anamaria had stopped and set down her crate, her hand on her sword hilt. Jack shook his head and waited for the woman to continue. "Are you Jack Sparrow?"

Jack didn't like where this was going. "I didn't father your child, I'm sorry." He sidestepped left but the woman moved with him, again blocking his steps.

"I know you didn't." She said, confused. "I need to talk to you, it's about…"

"I didn't do it." Jack answered. He stepped right but she blocked him again.

"Do what?" She asked. "My name is Victoria, I…" Jack faked a step left and the woman moved. With his way clear, Jack got a few steps up the dock before the woman was again in front of him. "You…"

"Hey!" Anamaria had joined the fray. She grabbed Victoria's arm and pulled her across the deck and out of Jack's way. Jack smiled gratefully up the dock but the woman's next words made him wobble to a stop.

"I'm Victoria Williams! My husband is Brian!" Jack turned. He knew that name well. Brian had been one of his best friends. Last he had heard, Brian was doing honest business on a merchant vessel. "Please."

Jack stared at the woman. She was very pretty, with blond hair pulled back in a loose tail at the back of her head. Her green eyes pleaded with him. "What about him?" Jack asked. Victoria pulled away from Anamaria and came forward slowly.

"He's missing. His last letter told me they were going to be back a few days ago. The ship showed up but he was missing. There was an island. The crew said there had been light…and a cave." Jack suddenly remembered the bright orb in the middle of the black pool. What had Brian gotten himself into?

Nearby, watching them from the shadow of a building, the dark figure laughed lightly and disappeared into the main stream crowd of Tortuga.

TO MY REVIEWERS:

Oocssuck: Of course Ana will show up! Well, she just did. Ana and Jack, after the Fated Parting, who could imagine. Though, you can bet your butt their relationship is going to go through a lot of trials and such. Oh Morgan…she'll come in, don't you worry. Yes, and Marko's creepy words…lol. I hope this one will be as good as the first. Almost all the old characters will come into play, as will some new and weird ones.

forceflow46: Yes, Jack's past always seems to catch up with him and different elements of his past are going to come along and kick him in his cute little butt. LOL. I hope you like it. P.S. I got three reviews from you and two were exactly the same. It made me laugh really hard. LOL.

OpraNoodlemantra: I love sequels, though this is the first one I've ever written. I like seeing Jack's past and seeing what other people think about it. I hope in the next movies they let us in on some of his secrets. You'll find out what happened in the cave and with Peter. I love Jack. I hope you liked this chapter.

TO ANYONE I MAY HAVE MISSED OR IS NOT REVEIWING, THANK YOU.


	3. Small Cargo

Hey everyone, the adventure is about to begin! Hope you all like this chapter. It's setting up the story.

Chapter Three: Small Cargo

"So, we are taking this woman with us?" Jack nodded and handed another crate to Gibbs, who in turn handed it to Cotton and so on. Anamaria wrapped her arms across her chest and raised an eyebrow. "Are you insane?"

"Why does everyone keep asking me that?" Jack asked absent mindedly, hauling another crate into his arms. Gibbs snorted beside him and looked up at Anamaria, ignoring Jack who was trying to pass him the next (very heavy) crate.

"Its bad luck to be bringing this woman on board. No one listens to me, never." Gibbs grunted as Jack heaved the enormous crate into his unprepared arms. There was a loud crash as Gibbs dropped the load and the box split, spilling food all over the floor.

Jack moved away from the crew as they began to clean up and grabbed Anamaria by the arm, leading her away from the mess and out of ear shot of the crew.

"Anamaria…darling." Jack started, earning a glare from Anamaria. "We're only taking her as far as Port Royal. He's my friend after all…"

"Was, Jack. He was your friend." Anamaria corrected him. Jack sighed and suddenly there was a glint in his eyes.

"Wait a moment…" He whispered. "Are you jealous?" Anamaria's face suddenly split into an angry mask.

"Jealous? Of what! What does she have that haven't? What can I possibly be jealous about?" Jack grinned viciously.

"Another woman on board means the possibility that I will be not watching you as much anymore." Anamaria's hand was raising ever so slightly and Jack shut up quickly, knowing that any moment he may have a soar face.

"Even you thinking that you may be watching her makes me sick." Anamaria spat. With that, she left him, crossing the deck and helping the men clean up. Jack breathed deeply and began crewing on the inside of his cheek. Maybe having two women on board would be harder then he thought…but enjoyable none the less.

A movement down on the dock caught his eye. Victoria was wending her way between large crates destined for other ships. Finally, Jack thought, he'd told her to be here two hours ago. Crossing the deck, he staggered down the plank and waited for her on the dock, only realizing when she was a few paces away, that she wasn't alone.

"What is that?" Jack asked, pointing to the small creature walking behind her. Victoria stopped and turned, looking up the dock behind her as the creature, which turned out to be a small child, came to her side, holding her hand. Looking back, confused, Victoria stared at him.

"What is what?" She asked. The child held Jack's gaze for the longest time as she chewed on a long strand of blond hair. She could be no older then six or seven, small and cute. Jack cringed and pointed to the little girl.

"That." He said. Victoria looked down at the child and her face dissolved from confusion to love so fast it made Jack's head spin.

"My daughter." She said fondly, looking up. "Her name is Lydia."

"I don't care what her name is, what is she doing here?" Jack asked. Anamaria had come to the top of the plank and was listening to the conversation. Victoria glanced at her before turning back to Jack.

"I can't leave her here. We have no family. I had no one to leave her with." Victoria answered, panicky. Jack shook his head and staggered forward a few steps making the little girl shrink back behind her mother.

"No, you're not bringing her on board." He said. Victoria's hand tightened on her daughter's.

"I must." She answered. Jack was about to reply when he felt a female hand on his shoulder. Anamaria had come down the plank and was smiling at the little girl fondly.

"Hello." She said, reaching out a hand. The little girl didn't move but gazed at Anamaria fearfully. "My name's Ana. Do you want to come and see the ship?" Lydia looked up at her mother who was still having a glaring match with Jack and shook her head. "Okay, we can bring your mother to if you want."

"No. The child stays in Tortuga." Jack hissed. The little girl stared up at him in alarm.

"Are you a pirate?" She asked suddenly. Jack's eyes moved from Victoria to Lydia slowly and he raised his eyebrows.

"Yes." He answered. Lydia nodded and crept out from behind her mother.

"Are you a mean pirate?" She asked. Anamaria smiled, trying not to laugh. Jack stayed silent for a moment.

"Yes." He answered. Lydia nodded, still chewing on the end of her hair.

"I don't like you." She said finally. Jack's face was impassive, Anamaria burst into silent laughter and Victoria yanked Lydia's arm, whispering that she shouldn't be so rude.

"The feeling is mutual." Jack answer blandly. Looking back up at Victoria, he said, "If you want to come, you leave the child. We leave in ten minutes. You'll either be on the ship alone, or not at all." With that, he turned and made his way back up the ramp.

"Wait!" Jack turned and looked back down at Victoria who seemed panicky. "If she stays silent, not a word and you forget about her, can she come? I promise, she'll behave. You won't even know she's there."

"Jack, please." Anamaria called. Jack studied her face as the woman stared at the little girl still hiding behind her mother. Finally, he gave in. It was something about women. He knew he was being manipulated but he couldn't help it.

"Fine." Victoria's face broke into a smile. "But, if I hear one word from her, I will throw her to the sharks." Lydia's eyes widened. Jack left the plank and walked across the deck.

"Sir!" Gibbs yelled frantically. Jack turned and waited until the man was right in front of him. "There are going to be three women on board! We'll never make it out of the bay." Jack eyed the little girl who was moving across the deck with her mother and Anamaria. Many of the pirates had stopped what they were doing to watch in disbelief.

"Unfortunately, I believe we'll be stuck with that little brat for longer then that, Mr. Gibbs." Raising his voice, Jack called over the silent deck, "Make ready to sail! We leave in nine minutes!"

At the end of the dock, a dark figure watched the Pearl make ready to sail. The only person who noticed was a little girl, leaning on the railing. As the ship began to move, she waved to the stranger who stood watching her…and he waved back.

TO MY REVEIWERS:

Ilana Starr: Thanks. I hope you liked this chapter.

forceflow46: Hey. You'll see about Morgan and Norrington… it'll be great. This story is going to be bigger then the first just the way it's been planned. There are so many loose ends I have to tie up from the other one, all these new characters I have and all…LOL. It makes me nervous.

Oocssuck: You'll see a lot of familiar faces and new ones. LOL. Poor Gibbs, he always walks in/interrupts Jack and Ana. Yeah, I wonder how often Jack gets accused of fathering someone's child. Ana, I think, will slow down on her slaps…for now…you'll find out who the shadow was, don't worry.

nykky: I'm glad you like it. Keep reading. It'll get better.

To anyone I may have missed or is simply not reveiwing, Thank you.


	4. Charlotte Reid

Hey guys, this is kind of a filler chapter, so I can introduce you to two new characters! I hope you like it anyway. These two will be important for the later plot.

Chapter Four: Charlotte Reid

Charlotte made her way slowly down the hallway, in her arms three baskets full of bread, fruit and other sweat smelling food from town. It all smelled so good, her stomach growled loudly in answer to the smell wafting up to her nose.

She entered the kitchen and set them down on the counter, next to the large cook, who was peeling potatoes and cursing loudly. "Charlotte." He said, pointing to the pan on the counter. "Grab that and bring it here." Charlotte sighed, ducked under Eloise who was carrying a box of apples into the cellar.

"Watch where you're going, Charlotte!" She cried as one of the apples fell off the box, unnoticed to anyone else. Charlotte caught it, stuffed it in the pocket of her dress, and kept moving. Grabbing the pot, she threw it to the cook and then left the kitchen, looking for Mary.

The two had been friends for years and both had found a job here, working in the Commodore's large home as cooking staff. Tonight was a big night, in Norrington's eyes, as he was having Elizabeth, Will and Ruth Turner over for dinner.

The two enjoyed the apple for a while and then sat talking about many things, mainly the coming dinner. "I think he still loves her." Mary whispered, pointing at the Commodore. They could just see him down in the grass below, practicing sword techniques with one of his men.

"Well, if he asks me to poison Will Turner's food…" Charlotte replied. Smiling, she closed her eyes and leaned against the wall, letting the warm sun flood over her face. She had long, thin dark hair, almost black in hue. Her green eyes blazed in her face, exaggerating her finely chiseled features. She'd known her mother, Emily, until she had died a few years ago. They'd moved to Port Royal, from Tortuga when Charlotte had turned eight. She knew she looked like her father, which was what all the wanted posters said…

Charlotte's attention slipped back to the present as she heard loud cursing inside the kitchen. She and Mary poked their heads in to see the cook at the fire, flames spurting under the pot and smoke rising all around him. Giggling, she rushed into the room with her friend to help extinguish the blaze.

Daniel Morraine sighed and leaned against the railing of the Blue Sphere, newly christened Rising Tide. It was Bill Turner's ship, and a great place to work. Captain Turner crossed the deck and leaned against the railing beside him.

"Home sick, Morriane?" He asked. Daniel, startled, looked up at the captain. Nodding, he let his eyes wander away again, to the sea. "I was like that myself." He said.

"You, sir?" Daniel asked. Bill nodded and laughed.

"I had my brother with me then, however. My brother, Jack." A smile crossed his face. "You know what will get rid of your homesickness?" Daniel shook his head, eager and apprehensive at the same time. Suddenly, Bill produced a bucket of soapy water and a brush from behind his back, passing them off to Daniel who felt his heart sink. "Cleaning the deck. We'll be in Port Royal soon, so you might want to hurry." With that he was gone, making his way across the deck to keep tabs on the other men. Daniel growled under his breath and fell to his knees, working hard.

Night had fallen; Port Royal was bathed in dusky, quiet gloom. Will held Ruth's hand as he led her up the white steps and onto the wide, sweeping porch of the Commodore's home, Elizabeth following behind them.

"How do I look?" Elizabeth asked, straightening her clothes. Will smiled at her.

"You look fine." He said. Below him, Ruth nodded.

"Yes, mommy, you look great." Elizabeth ran a hand down her daughter's cheek and nodded to Will who knocked on the large white door. A butler pulled it wide and bowed his head, motioning them inside.

The house was about as large as theirs, only less grand and with the definite feeling of a mansion looking for a family. The butler led them into the main room and left, entering a side passage and disappearing from their sight. There was silence all around them.

"It reminds me of an ambush." Will whispered, making Ruth giggle and Elizabeth glare. Light footsteps behind them made them turn to see a dark haired girl, probably in her teens, race across the far end of the room towards the kitchens. She had dark brown hair framing a beautiful face. She glanced at them for a second, smiled, and disappeared. Will stared after her with a strange look on his face.

"What's wrong, Will?" Elizabeth asked, tapping him on the arm. Will shook his head, as though to clear it, and smiled back at her.

"Nothing…she just looked an awful lot like…" Norrington's approach down the stairs from the second floor stopped him. The Commodore was dressed in Navy blue, his white wig standing out against the fabric touching his shoulder. He smiled warmly at them.

"Welcome," He said in his usual monotonous voice. "You're a little early." Elizabeth blushed and grinned.

"We were unsure of the time." She said. Norrington shook his head, still grinning.

"No need to apologize." He said, coming to the bottom of the stairs and crossing the floor in a few wide steps. "It's great to have you here, no matter the time." He kissed Elizabeth's hand before turning to Will and shaking his. "Come, supper is ready."

The meal was laid out before them when they arrived in the dinning room. It smelled great, and made Will want to gag for some reason. Norrington was seated at the head of the table, Elizabeth on the right hand side next to him, then Ruth and then Will beside her on the left hand side. Will ignore the itching feeling in his stomach at the seating arrangement and instead, focused his attention on his daughter's meat, cutting it into sizable bites for her to chew.

The evening seemed to drag on, Elizabeth and Norrington talking animatedly about this or that. Soon, Will was left to entertain Ruth with fork and spoon shows which culminated in Will stabbing himself in the hand, much to Ruth's delight. She squealed loudly with laughter, making the other two adults look up at them for the first time all night.

With his finger in his mouth, Will smiled innocently up at Elizabeth who was watching him with a murderous glare on her face. "Mr. Turner." Norrington said in slight surprise, as though he'd just noticed him there. "Tell me, how is your business going lately?"

In the kitchen, Charlotte was just leaving with Mary for the night, her job over and done with. They walked together down the street, talking about many things, mainly how cute Will Turner was. Rounding a corner, they were just making their way down garbage laden alleyway, when a man stepped out of the darkness.

Gasping in surprise, Charlotte grabbed Mary and pulled her away from the man as he bore down on them slowly from the darkness. "Hello, my dears." He said gruffly. They couldn't see his face; his whole body was one big shadow. "I'm looking for Morgan Sparrow."

"There is no Morgan Sparrow here." Mary snapped. Her sudden spurt of bravery evaporated, she shrunk back to her usual size at Charlotte's side. The man laughed a chilling sound that made the hairs on Charlotte's neck stand up on end.

"Very well, Charlotte Reid then." Charlotte gulped but stayed silent. "I know which one of you that is, the little pickpocket with black hair." Charlotte could tell he was smiling at her. "Tell your father, when he arrives, that his old friend, Marko is watching him very, very closely."

"My…father?" Charlotte squeaked. The man laughed.

"Yes, your father. Tell him I'm coming for him and soon…I'll have his head hanging from my mast."

"Tell him yourself." Charlotte snapped. The man suddenly raised his hand, metal flashed, there was a shot and Mary fell to Charlotte's feet. Screaming, she dropped to her knees and groped in the darkness for her friend. Thick, warm blood smeared her hands, leaking from an unseen, gooey wound in Mary's chest. "No!" Charlotte cried.

"That will be him…and you, soon my little Sparrow…soon." And then he was gone, melting into the darkness of the alley way once more. Charlotte grabbed her friend's arm and dragged her back out to the street. Mary's entire upper half was covered in blood.

"Oh!" Charlotte gasped, "Oh, Mary! Mary! Hold on please." Pulling her friend to the wall of the nearest shop, Charlotte took off down the street towards the doctor's house. She cursed now, her given name of Morgan Sparrow. It had been the death of her friend and the reason she had hidden it from others and herself for so long.

To My Reviewer:

meowface: Thanks, I'm glad you like it. Sorry this chappie was so bad and so far between the others. I'm having such a busy June! Thanks for the review!

forceflow46: well, I'm now calculating how old Morgan is now and comparing it to Norrington. She's gotta be about Elizabeth's age so…u'll see. It would be funny.

Blackmagic: (Chapter 1 and 3) Did you really cry? Awe, that's touching. I was sad writing it! Believe me. Thank you for the compliment, you made me blush. Keep reading, this was a sucky chappie but it'll get better.

Oocssuck: LOL, I think Jack may have learned his lesson a little. Be careful around Ana! Oh, Ana will punish him. Men have to learn their places. Kidding, of course. LOL, if I were Ana, I would forgive Jack and get to the naughtiness…lol. Your suspicions on Liddy are very interging…if I had a beard not only would I look funny but I'd be stroking it in pondering, evil author thought.

Johnny-cakes-Depp: LOL, I love all the names. Yes, 3 women but there may be more. Poor Gibbs will have a heart attack, eh? Keep reading.


	5. Accidental Whisper

Hey everyone! Sorry for the long wait!

Chapter Five: Accidental Whisper

Ruth was asleep; Elizabeth was tucked in and reading a book, propped against her knees. Will stood beside the window, staring out at the black ocean frothing against the beach, his callused hands fumbling with the buttons on his shirt.

"Will, stop fooling around and get into bed." Elizabeth said crisply, peering over the top of her book at him. The candle light danced off her pretty face and threw her eyes into angry shadow.

Will sighed and crossed the room, sitting on the end of the bed. He could feel Elizabeth's eyes on his back. "Stare at me all you want, Elizabeth." He said shortly. "It won't change anything."

"I wish it would turn back the clock so we could re-do tonight and maybe you would behave as a proper gentlemen towards James." Will knew this was coming. He let his hands fall from his buttons and looked back over his shoulder at her. She was really angry.

"Unfortunately it won't. If you wanted a proper gentlemen, you shouldn't have married me." Will snapped. Elizabeth closed her book with a snap.

"No, maybe I shouldn't have." She said. "James was being kind, inviting us over for supper and you had to act like a complete child."

"Well at least I didn't act like a love sick young woman!" Will said before he could stop himself. Feeling his face turn red, he turned his gaze back to the window and stared through the window across the room. Elizabeth shifted beside him, silent. Will could have cut the tension in the room with a knife. Finally, he sprang to his feet and went to the door.

"I'm going for a walk." He said bitterly. Without a backwards glance he left, closing the bedroom door with a snap and plunging himself into darkness. Standing in the hall, he breathed deep, burying his face in his hands. He hated fighting with Elizabeth but they seemed to be doing that more and more often lately.

Moving through the house as quietly as possible, he was only met with silence. The same held true for outside. The town was silent and the moon hung high above him like the shimmering face of deception. All was not well in the town, his own mind was plagued with fear and doubt. If he lost Elizabeth or Ruth…

Shaking his head, he glanced up at his bedroom window. The lights were out and there was darkness in the window. Moving off down the streets he entered his shop and closed the door, leaning on it with a sigh.

A strange creak at the other end of the room perked his curiosity. There was someone else in here, he was sure of it. There was a sword he kept by the door, in a barrel so Ruth couldn't get a hold of it. Reaching into the barrel he was met by empty air. The sword was gone.

A strange creak to his right made him whip around fully. Through the moonlit cracks in the door, he saw someone moving, a large shadowy figure in a heavy jacket and wide brimmed hat. Straggly hair stuck out at angles but he couldn't see the face.

Will stepped back as his eyes fell on a glint of metal in the pale light as the figure raised its sword.

Suddenly, outside, a female scream pierced the night. "Help! Someone please, help me!" Will didn't take his eyes off the figure which suddenly left his side and disappeared into the dark as the woman outside hit the door of the shop.

Will wrenched it open and grabbed the woman as she threw herself into his arms, sobbing. Her hair was long and thin, almost black in hue. Her green eyes were bloodshot from crying and tears flooded down her finally chiseled features. Her small frame shook violently as she melted to the ground, holding Will's shirt, her hands stained red.

"Are you injured?" Will asked loudly, picking her up and dragging her away from the shadowy shop incase the figure still dwelled there. The woman shook her head and wailed louder. Will held her close to him, letting her melt into his strong body as she began screaming incoherently.

"Mary!" He finally made out. "Mary, oh my god!" Will pulled away from her and held her beautiful face in his hands. He recognized her! She was the young woman he had seen in the Commodore's house earlier that night.

"What happened?" Will asked. The woman closed her eyes and sobbed to the ground, not answering. Will shook her. "You must tell me what happened so I can help you."

"The doctor! He's not there! I can't find him." She screamed. By now half the town had been woken and men were coming from their homes above their shops, still into their night clothing to investigate. Women hung out of shutter windows, watching with curiosity and Will could hear a small baby, the daughter of the baker, screaming in protest to the noise.

"I'll find him if come with me and calm yourself." Will said. The woman wouldn't stop crying, she seemed to be having a complete breakdown. "Okay…" Will looked up and saw a pretty young girl making her way through the crowd. He pointed at her. "Come here, stay with her until I return!"

The woman looked surprised at being addressed but nodded and sat down beside the distraught young woman. Will squeezed her shoulder and then sprung to his feet, taking one last glance at the shop before bolting down the street to search for Christian, the doctor.

It was a few minutes before he reached his house, drenched in sweat and completely out of breath. Will noticed a light on in a room at the top of the house. Sprinting up the stairs, he banged his fist on the door. Soon, Christian's tired young face appeared in the doorway.

"Mr. Turner!" He said, looking thoroughly shocked as Will leaned on the door frame. "What has happened? Is it Mrs. Turner? Ruth?"

"No…" Will panted, "Where have…you…been?"

"I had a call, you dockworker…what has happened?" Christian's eyes were round with anxiety. Will clutched his chest as pain shot through it.

"A woman…beside my…shop." He gasped. Christian didn't need any more explaining. Telling Will to sit and rest a moment, he raced back into his house to fetch his medical bag and coat.

They ran together down the streets, Will trying to keep up with the agile and less tired doctor. Soon, they were at his shop but the Navy had arrived. Commodore Norrington stood above the young lady and her helper. He was talking in a rough voice, tying to get information out of her.

She'd calmed considerably but was still a mess. When she saw Christian she almost began sobbing again. "Oh thank God!" She screamed crawling to her feet with Norrington's help. "She's this way, hurry!"

The woman led them down the street, stumbling as tears obscured her vision. Soon they were a considerable distance from the shop and near an alley. A woman lay there, a hole blown in her chest. Will stood back, watching the scene play in front of him. He couldn't help but feel, as he watched her, that there was more to this young woman then met the eye.

Miles away, on the high seas, Jack rolled over in his sleep, moaning into the pillow. Anamaria woke with a start, staring through the dark to stare at him. Jack rarely made noise in his sleep, particularly enough to wake her up. She'd been having such a good dream to! She'd married him and they lived in a cottage on a hill overlooking the ocean…she ran the house and they had small kids.

Jack suddenly jumped violently, still asleep. Anamaria reached out, her hand hovering in the dark for a moment before she gripped his shoulder and squeezed. He didn't wake but rolled over again until he face her.

"Jack." She whispered. Jack's forehead wrinkled at her voice but his eyes were still closed. Sensing this was a good time to get into his mind, she leaned closer and whispered, "Who's there with you?"

Jack moaned slightly. Anamaria repeated the question. "Key." Jack said. Anamaria wasn't sure if that was a name or just a ramble. She repeated her question and was shocked to hear, "Morgan." Eyes widening, she pulled away from him and scooted to the edge of the bed.

Morgan…Marko had mentioned her…Jack's daughter. He had told her it wasn't true! He'd lied.

"Jack wake up!" Anamaria screamed. Jack flung awake, falling out of the bed and flat on his face. After a few minutes of silence, his head reappeared, glaring at her over the edge of the blanket.

"Bloody hell, woman." He growled, pulling himself back up. "If I keep allowing you to sleep here…" Anamaria cut him off.

"Allowing me?" She screamed, getting off the bed. "You filthy liar! You said her name!"

"Said what name." Jack challenged back. Anamaria marched around the bed and stood face to face with him, the fabric from her night gown almost touching his bare chest.

"Morgan." She growled. Jack's eyes made no sign that he understood what she meant but, when he spoke again, it was far different.

"I said nothing." He answered. Anamaria smacked him hard in the chest, causing a loud SSSSAAAATTTT to echo through the room. "Ana!"

"Don't touch me, just say nothing." She moved around him, trying to leave but he grabbed her arm. Without so much as a thought, she did something she hadn't done for a long time and smacked him. Jack wheeled completely around gripping his jaw from her force and, with that, Anamaria left, slamming the door behind her.

Jack stood in the darkness for a moment, staring at the wall, his mind completely blank.

TO MY REVEIWERS:

Due to stupid rules, I can't answer my reveiwer responses, which I find the funnest part of updating. However, I will email you, answering any questions you may pose in your reveiws, starting after this. I'm sorry for this, I find it adds a personal touch to the stories. Thank you everyone!


	6. Charlotte and the Sphere

**Hey everyone, this is just a filler, really, to let you all know I'm still alive and set up some plot. Thanks. **

**Chapter 6: Charlotte and the Sphere**

Bill sat very still at the back of the pub. How could it be, that just a few years ago, this would have been impossible? He laughed lightly and played with his tankard, staring at a pretty redhead near the bar. She was talking to the barman and looked up every so often at him. Bill didn't pretend he wasn't watching her and even winked a couple of times.

After a few minutes, the woman pushed away from the bar and began to wend her way through the crowd, telling off people who got in her way. Finally she reached the table, the candlelight playing off the sweat on the top of her breasts which were bulging tantalizingly over the top of her dress.

Taking a big swig of rum, Bill leaned on the table. Now that she was close to him, he could see her red hair was actually strawberry blond and hung in lanky tendrils around her shoulders. Her wide eyes were deep blue and caught the dancing firelight perfectly.

"You wanna go upstairs, sir?" She asked her voice deep and husky. As he let his eyes travel over her, he found a deep scar on her neck. "Or do ya wanna jus' do it here?"

"Upstairs maybe." Bill said. He gestured for her to sit down in the chair across from him. "But first, give me company while I finish my drink." The woman nodded obligating and took her seat.

"What brings ye to Port Royal then?" She asked, leaning on the table and running a long finger over her chest. Bill watched the finger's progress over the top of his tankard.

"Supplies…" Bill muttered. The prostitute nodded and grabbed his tankard, taking a drink from it. Bill liked the kind of woman who would take the initiative. She drained the last bit and then got up, slamming it on the table. Grabbing his hand, she pulled his roughly across the room to the stairs.

"Now we have some fun." She giggled, whipping around and grabbing his face, kissing him deeply. They moved up the stairs awkwardly, their mouths still locked together, his hands grouping on the front of her dress.

The stairs they mastered, the hall was a little harder. They bumped into tables and had to skirt other people in their attempts to find an empty room. After many failed tries they managed to procure one at the end of the hall.

Bill threw her on the bed and slammed the door behind him. Falling on top of her he listened the her giggle as she tried to pull his shirt over his head. Just when it looked like this would be a good party, the door of the room opened and a timid voice said, "Captain?"

Bill whipped around and saw Daniel poking his head in. When he caught sight of them his face turned beat red and he pulled his head back, his voice shaky with embarrassment but very clear. "Sir, there is a woman onboard the Sphere; she's asking questions about a Jack Sparrow. She says it's urgent."

"I'm busy, Morraine." Bill snapped. Daniel made a weird nose.

"I know, but she's….scary." Bill rolled his eyes and looked down at the girl who was pouting. By the time he got back she would have already found a new charge. Sighing, Bill pulled himself off her and grabbed his shirt.

"Sorry." He said simply. The woman sat up on her elbows and nodded. "I have child problems…my crew in other words." Outside the door he could almost see Morraine's face blanch.

With a last look of longing at the woman lying on his bed, he followed Daniel out of the room. Once they were down the stairs and into the cool night air beyond, he grabbed Daniel's upper arm and steered him into the shadows of a bakery, rather roughly. "What the hell is your problem, Morraine?" He growled, his face inches from the youth's. The boy blanched considerably and took a deep, hesitant gulp of air.

"Well, sir, there's a woman named…" Bill growled and his grip tightened on the boy's arm.

"I know." He snapped impatiently. "Why couldn't anyone else deal with her?" Daniel shifted uncomfortably again and Bill saw his eyes darting around the street over his shoulder, as though trying to find an escape route. Deciding he was being to harsh, he let go of the boy and straightened Daniel's clothing. "Let's go. She's just a woman for heaven's sake."

The young woman turned out to be more then just scary, she was incredibly scary! Bill leaned back in his chair, his feet up on the polished desk in the middle of his captain's cabin. The young woman was leaning on the wood, her dark hair falling off her shoulder and swinging as she gestured forcefully with her slender hands.

"Okay, Charlotte…can I call you that?" The girl nodded. "You want me to take you with me when you have nothing to offer and…what, a fixation with this Jack Sparrow? What am I supposed to think of that? How do I know you won't try and kill him?"

Charlotte sighed dramatically and stood up, folding her arms over her chest. "I am highly qualified. I can help down in the galley, with the cooking. I am an ample dress maker and can tailor any of the clothing your men destroy." She gave Daniel's ripped shirt and once over and the young man blushed under her gaze.

"You look familiar." Bill said suddenly, his mind kicking into high gear. The young woman before him held the definite looks of the Sparrow family, but he knew Jack's wife and child were dead. Charlotte smiled slightly.

"Maybe some conquest you met in Tortuga was my mother?" She asked. She was appealing to him, trying to drive his lust to the edge to gain passage. The pride in her eyes at the mention of her mother was no prostitute's daughter.

"I have many conquests." Bill answered simply and the girl blushed slightly, pink rising in her high cheekbones. Her beauty would be a distraction to the crew, but on the other hand she was built right and looked strong, for a woman. Maybe she could work on board…women were bad luck, however.

"I'm more of a man then a woman." Charlotte answered swiftly, as though reading his mind. "I just want to meet Jack Sparrow."

"Uha." Bill gurgled. Sitting straight and pulling his feet from the table, he leaned on the desk. "Tell me. Are you merely a fan of his, or something more?" Charlotte stiffened noticeably. "You're not pregnant with his child, are you?"

"No!" Charlotte snapped. She sounded like she was disgusted. "I'm his…greatest fan. He knows my father."

Bill smiled. "Then welcome aboard, Charlotte Reed." Charlotte smiled and allowed Daniel to lead her from the cabin. Leaning back again, Bill lit a pipe and sucked on it unconsciously. How much trouble had he just gotten himself into?

**TBC**

**Hey everyone, told you this was just a filler. I just wanted to set up Charlotte's new life and how she'll get to Jack. It will get more exciting, I promise. Thanks everyone for the reviews, they were awesome. **


	7. Jack's Dream

Hey everyone. Firstly, I want to apologize for how long it's taken me, my computer crashed two months ago and I finally have it back. I'm sorry! Second, I had many emails and reviews asking me if Morgan really was Jack's daughter, so, here is the chapter that will clear everything up! Enjoy and please read and review!

**Chapter 7**

**Jack's Dreams**

The day had been long and grueling but night had fallen and the sun was sinking low, almost touching the tossing blue Caribbean water. Jack Sparrow leaned upon the Black Pearl's wheel, sighing contentedly as he stared at the dying sun. Anamaria had been watching him for a while now, as he slowly slipped lower and lower, now leaning at such a strange angle that it could not be comfortable in the least. He had such a contented look, however, that she couldn't bring herself to rouse him.

Gibbs had been watching Jack too, but not in the same way as Anamaria. He wended his way through the working men and came to her side. "I think yr should be relieving the Cap'n." He said quietly, glancing over at Jack again. The pirate had slipped another inch or so down the wheel, still staring at the horizon. Anamaria turned to Gibbs.

"You're betting on us again, aren't you?" She asked, her tone icy. Gibbs straightened, surprised and a shifty look stole over his features.

"Maybe." He said. "I'm down for you two sleeping in the same bed tonight…that is if you're not still fighting." He kicked the side of the Pearl moodily. "Yer not still fighting, right?" Anamaria ignored him and looked over his shoulder. Jack was striding towards them.

"Mr.Gibbs." He said gruffly. Gibbs jumped and spun around, alarmed. Marty had the wheel…he was so small that there might as well had been no one steering. Jack glanced over his shoulder, mumbled, "I need to find him a box." Before turning back to his friend. "Kick my ship again and yer ass will be over board. Savvy?" Gibbs gulped.

"Savvy, Cap'n." Jack looked relieved and moved off towards his cabin gratefully. Anamaria watched him for a moment and then resumed her work.

Her back was aching, her stomach lurching but she wouldn't quit…not yet. She had to wait until Jack's departure had been saturated from the minds of the crew before she followed him into the deep shadows of the captain's cabin.

When all seemed calm and she was unwatched, she set down her work and discreetly followed Jack's steps, disappearing inside the Lion's cave virtually unnoticed. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the gloom inside.

Jack was standing beside a cabinet in the corner, a bottle of rum in one hand and a glass in the other. He smiled but didn't look up as she entered.

"I was beginning to think you wouldn't show up, luv." He said, tipping rum into his glass. Anamaria latched the door behind her and crossed the room slowly, pulling off her long coat and throwing it into the bed. Jack glanced up as she took the glass from him and drained it in one go.

"We have a lot to catch up on." Anamaria whispered, tipping the bottle's contents into her glass until it was full. Jack's hand remained on the bottle and, as she let go, he tipped his head back and drained the rest.

Making a weird chocking sound, he dropped the bottle on the side of the cabinet where it tipped and fell, shattering into shards of glittering glass on the floor. Anamaria giggled and grabbed his hair, pulling his lips forward onto her own.

Still holding her empty glass, she pulled him non-to-gently towards the bed. When the back of her legs made contact with the softness of his mattress she tipped backwards, falling onto the bed with Jack landing on top of her, his heavy warmth engulfing her. Jack grunted painfully and pulled away. Anamaria felt it to, the hardness between them, separating them from each other. Separating them from completely giving away to their lust.

The hilts of their swords (What were you all thinking, huh?) were grinding together. "That your sword, or mine, darling?" He asked, rolling off her. Anamaria set the glass down amongst the sheets and blankets and began stripping off her sword belt and throwing in into a corner with Jack's.

"Now where were we?" She asked, rolling over on top of him and nibbling his neck. The warm…kinda scratchy skin sent weird tingles over her lips that made her want more.

"You forgive me then, I'd wager?" Jack whispered in her ear, his voice lilting with pleasure. Anamaria pulled away and smiled at him. His deep brown eyes held her own quite steady, never wavering.

"Yes." Anamaria answered, biting her lip. Jack raised an eyebrow and she smiled at him. "What now, ye fool?"

"Do ye have any questions you wish to ask? Because I know you do." He said seriously. Anamaria looked away, staring out the window and concentrating on the setting sun.

"I…um…" She wished the mention Morgan to him, wondering if he was in a good enough mood to answer. His eyes bored into hers, still steady and Anamaria shook her head, laughing. Suddenly he rolled over and gripped her hair, pulling her head back and burying his face into the crook between her neck and shoulder.

Anamaria reached up and gripped the pillow, ready for whatever he was about to throw at her when her hand gripped something hard and round beneath it. She pulled it out slowly and raised it above his head, staring at it as he traced the skin on her chest with his rough, thirsty lips.

It was a dagger she held now, in a hilt made of rough brown leather. It had a round circle on it, painted silver. It almost seemed to dazzle her. A girl's face was drawn beside it, her skin pale, hair jet black. The artist had made her so sad looking…

"Jack?" Anamaria whispered. He instantly looked up and cracked the back of his head on the heavy dagger hilt.

"Oowwhhh…." Jack exclaimed, pulling a hand from her neck and rubbing the back of his head. Anamaria showed him the dagger. A strange expression crossed his face and he smiled. "Well, if you like it like that, I guess we can make it work."

Anamaria felt heat creeping up in her face. He thought she liked it kinky…well, maybe later. "Do you always sleep with weapons beneath your pillow?"

"Would that like you even more?" Jack asked slyly. Anamaria slapped him on the shoulder and allowed him to slowly take the dagger from her grasp. Rolling off her, he laid down on his back and held the dagger up to the dying sunlight, examining the weapon hilt.

"I got this from…my father." He said simply, sighing and rolling over to gently place the dagger on the floor beside the bed. Anamaria rolled over, facing him and propped her head on her hand. He had never really talked about his past before. Anamaria knew little bits, like Will being Jack's nephew and such.

"Will's grandfather?" Anamaria asked quietly. Jack, who had been staring at the ceiling, looked over at her slowly and shook his majestic head.

"No…the man I called father…he raised me, and my mother loved him." Jack smiled slightly and rolled over on top of her again, playing with her shirt buttons. "Now, where were we?"

"Wait." Anamaria whispered, placing her fingers on his lips. Jack grinned, expecting a treat. Not wanting to disappoint him, she got slowly from the bed and moved over to his cabinet and dresser, pulling off her clothes as she went. Jack leaned on his elbow and grinned, watching her.

"You're tantalizing me." He said softly, watching her seductive movements with a grin. Anamaria glanced over her shoulder and smiled playfully before knelling down next to the cabinet and tugging open a bottom shelf. "I wondered what that was for, not for my own use I knew."

"Oh, so you had a sneak peak?" Anamaria laughed over her shoulder, pulling out a Spanish silk dressing gown. The piece was more feminine then usual but Anamaria knew she wanted to feel special at least once during her nights with Jack…if not all the time. She'd picked it out of a chest in the room of a wealthy Spanish Dona not long ago and had been dying to show it off for ages. Why not now?

"I was curious as to what I owned that was lime green and silky. You have to admit, it's not quite my style, luv. I didn't know it was yours, either." Anamaria gave him a look over her shoulder that shut him up instantly. Jack grinned and lay down among the rumpled sheets, flat on his back, staring at the water spots on the wooden ceiling. Anamaria had moved off to the second room where he couldn't drool over her form.

Deciding he needed a drink, he rolled off the bed and moved back to the cabinet and pulled out a bottle of rum. Not even worrying about a glass, he tipped the bitter, disgusting liquid into his mouth, grinning inwardly when he thought of what his mother would say, should she see him now…or, he shuddered to think…his wife.

A creak behind him made him turn. Anamaria was standing in the doorway, one hand on the frame. He had to admit, as his eyes swept up and down her body, clearly visible through the thin fabric hugging every curve and outline…he wished she dressed like this more often.

"Wow." He said, swallowing the rum in his mouth with a little difficulty. It, of course, wasn't the first time they had been together but this was something completely different. Jack smiled, trying to regain his composure. "Um…you look nice." He held the bottle of rum up to his eyes and shook it so the liquid sloshed dangerously. "Maybe I should lay off a little, eh?"

"Ha Ha Ha." Anamaria said, walking towards him slowly. "Maybe I should go ask the crew what they think." She went to move past him but he set the rum down and grabbed her, pulling her close to him. She was pressed against him so tightly that she could distinctly make out the outline of a hidden dagger tucked into his shirt.

"Or maybe you can show me more of your…hidden talents?" He whispered in her ear. Anamaria laughed, pulled away and led him to bed.

The sun slowly sank beneath the waves and the only interruption they experienced during their passion was when Jack rolled over on the empty glass, which broke and embedded small silver splinters into his skin.

Hours later, the sun had sank below the horizon and extinguished itself in the sea. Anamaria woke with a start, the same dreams of her late husband plaguing her and, yet again, Marko intruded. He was still out there somewhere, she knew it…out there and waiting. She had to find him, and kill him.

Yet, his parting words still haunted her…his words about her being the one. What did that mean? Rolling over, she stared into the moon washed face of the man she loved. Jack's bandana had been discarded some time ago, his skin a tinge lighter where it covered then the rest of his face. The kohl around his eyes was smudged down his cheeks, almost as though he had been crying…

Well she had certainly cried. She'd cried out so loud she was sure the whole ship had heard. Damn Gibbs and his knowing mind…and damn the crew should they mention it.

Anamaria reached up and removed a long string of brown hair from Jack's cheek making his eyes flutter. He moaned slightly and turned his head, sleeping on. He seemed oblivious to her, so close to him that his warm breath caressed her face.

He was beautiful, a work of art, and yet she still couldn't believe how close she'd come to losing him five years ago. Oh, if life had been one inch to the left or right…

Jack cleared his throat and rolled over onto his back, his brow furrowing and then unfurling, as though what he saw upset him. Small beads of perspiration broke out over his skin, crystal in the night light. He was dreaming something upsetting, she knew. For how else could he sweat when she was so cold?

The window was open across the room, sending in cold wafts of night air. Anamaria shivered and pulled the covers up higher on herself before worrying any further about Jack. His naked torso lay still with the bed covers down to his waist and she didn't want him to get cold.

Pulling on the discarded night gown, she got slowly to her feet and padded noiselessly across the room, stepping carefully in a vain attempt to avoid broken glass from the smashed bottle on the floor. The window stuck, as windows always do when you desperately want it closed and, after a few minutes of tugging, she managed to snap it shut. Whatever she had done had woken Jack who bolted upright, screaming.

"Jack!" Anamaria yelled, startled. She ran across the floor, pushing any thoughts of glass from her mind and leapt into bed at his side. He screamed and pulled away from her, seeming to shrink into the shadows of the room. He was absolutely terrified, which terrified her in the same. "Jack!"

"No, don't touch me Emily!" He screamed, slapping her hand away. He was still asleep, trapped in a waking dream. Suddenly his voice grew soft and he reached out, cupping her face with a quaking hand. "Oh, Emily…" He whispered, tears falling from his eyes and spattering her wrist as she placed a hand on his chest. "I left her. I'm so sorry."

"Left who?" Anamaria asked, curious. Jack stared at her blankly and then his eyes moved over her shoulder. He stared at nothing and wasn't even startled when there was a loud pounding on the cabin door.

"Cap'n?" Gibbs' voice was muffled but worried. Anamaria pulled away from Jack who leaned against the wall the moment her contact was broken and lay huddled against the wall, sinking into what ever dream he was having still.

Anamaria moved around the bed, shook him roughly with a, "Come on Cap'n, stay with me. I still want to know who you left." And opened the door. In her fright, she'd forgotten about what she was wearing but it all came back to her as Gibbs, and some of the crew behind him, instantly let their eyes fall down her frame and sweep up again as though she were a treat they too wished to sample.

"What are ye standing there gawking about?" Anamaria snapped, wrapping her arms around her chest. "The Cap'n needs spiced tea, the strongest ye got and step on it!" Gibbs stayed put as little Marty rushed off to the galley. The others watched her intently for a moment before Gracen moved towards Gibbs and handed him a coin.

"You win again." He said before moving off, giving Anamaria a quick once over first. The other men grudgingly spit up their coins and headed off to. Gibbs smiled at the last but when he looked back his face fell into a frown. Anamaria had her right hand extended for the money, the left held the dagger from under Jack's pillow. Even though she was in a very feminine dress, her hair was tangled and she smelled of sweet Jasmine, rum and sweat, she was still far more dangerous then the men he had to pay in the Port. He'd take on those cut throats any day of the week.

"Here." He said grudgingly, tipping the coins into her hand. As he made to move off she cleared her throat and raised an eyebrow. With a sigh, he dropped a hidden one into her hand to join the others. "How did you know?" He asked.

"I sleep with Jack, the master trickster, remember?" She said coldly before retreating into the room and shutting the door in his face. She'd wait for Jack's tea in the safety of his room.

Jack's dreams were more memories then anything else and though he sat up, staring into the nothingness, he saw nothing around him but the sitting room of his old home in Britain. Anamaria was gone, and the only other person that remained was a man around his height with medium brown hair pulled back in a ponytail. His head was adorned with a red bandana and beads hung in chains from strings in his hair.

Key Sparrow, the man Jack's mother, Ruth, had loved all his life, watched his adopted son stride around the room, his head bowed, eyes narrowed as he strained his ears to hear what was happening upstairs, even the faintest sound.

"You may as well sit down, John." Key said dully. Jack bristled at his name but remained silent, standing at the foot of the wide, sweeping spiral staircase with his arm resting on the banister. "It could be a while yet. You're a young man, wouldn't want to strain your heart to much."

"Please…" Jack whispered, slapping the railing with his hand and starting his relentless pacing again. "Leave me be."

"Are you really that worried?" Key asked, tilting his head to the side and stretching out his long legs. He was dressed in such pirate garb as to be unbelievable that he made it through the security on the dock. Jack gave him a disapproving once over with his eyes before sitting down heavily on a bench across from him. "You may as well accept it." Key replied to his look. "I'm a pirate, your brother, Billy is a pirate…your mother loved her dirty men."

"Shut up." Jack hissed. Key continued as though there had been no interruption.

"Pirate is in your blood so you'll have to square with that someday." Jack gave his father a look that plainly told him to shut up. "Hell, you yourself were a pirate when you were younger. All those years…until you saw that light."

"Things change a man. Emily, changed mine." Jack replied scathingly. Key raised his eyebrows and leaned back in his seat with a sigh. Before he could answer, the doctor and Emily's sister began to descend the stairs.

Jack sprang from his seat and positively ran to them. Margot flung her arms around his neck and sobbed into his shoulder, weather in joy or sadness he couldn't tell which.

"There was complications." The Doctor said quietly, his lined face grey and grim. "The baby is fine…but, your wife…"

"She's dying, John." Margot whispered in his ear. "Emily's dying." Margot choked and began sobbing harder, positively howling in misery. Jack was numb. Every fiber of his being seemed to be on fire. He didn't know what to think or feel, he only could stand there with his sister-in-law hanging off of him and his adopted father's hand on his shoulder.

After what seemed like forever, he found his voice. "How long does she have?" His voice was amazingly strong, for one in such grief and denial but he used it anyway. The doctor's eyes dimmed further. He'd known Emily since she was a child and loved her as much as Jack did.

"An hour or so, depending. She doesn't know. I hadn't the heart to tell her." The doctor said, shaking his head. "Poor child." He took Margot into his arms and held her as Jack pulled away and began moving up the stairs.

Their bedroom was quiet when he entered. A basket sat on the table, inside his child. The joy that filled him at the sight came with a terrible price. Emily lay in the bed, her eyes vacant as she stared out the window at the stars twinkling in the heavens. They were amazingly bright tonight, so bright that not even the light of the lamps around the room extinguished them.

She smiled as he approached and turned her head slowly to take in the sight of him. "John," She reached out her hand weakly, beckoning him onwards. When he reached her side, he fell to his knees and kissed her hand. "John, it's a girl. A baby girl."

Jack smiled warmly at her and nodded. "Yes. You did great." Emily shook her head.

"No, we did good." She whispered. "She's beautiful." Jack nodded and sniffed slightly, wiping his cheek with the back of his hand. He couldn't show weakness now.

"I want to name her after your sister." Emily said simply. Jack shook his head.

"That name is cursed." He answered. "No, I wish to name her something more powerful. Something strong."

"Strong." Emily smiled, closing her eyes. "Stronger then me, I fear." Jack cocked his head in confusion for a moment before the cold truth sank into his heart.

"You know." He said quietly. Emily opened her eyes, smiled and nodded. "No." Jack whispered a little more firmly, raising and sitting on the bed. "You've always been strong, you'll live through this. We'll be together, free."

"On the sea, you mean?" Emily asked slyly, raising her chin to take in the whole sight of him. "I've seen the way you watch it. Maybe you'll take her with you."

"No, that is not your life, nor hers. She will never live on the sea." Jack's voice held such conviction that it seemed to convince her. "On my oath, she will never know that life. We'll look after her."

"John. Bring her to me." She said. Jack stayed by her side for a moment before rising and going over to the basket. It was the first time he had held a child, not even having seen his nephew, Will jr. he didn't know what to expect.

She was gorgeous, with hair the color of his in soft whips over her small head. Jack smiled and gently lifted her from the basket, cradling her head in the crook of his arm, holding her small body with his other. She seemed too small to be allowed, sleeping peacefully in his arms.

Walking carefully, he moved to the bed and placed the small child in his wife's arms. The baby cooed, rolled its head to the side and slept on, unaware that these last moments were the most precious it would ever know for years to come.

Jack crawled into the bed next to his wife and placed his head almost nose to nose with her on the pillow, staring into her tear filled eyes as if lost. She watched the baby for a while before smiling up at him.

"Morgan." She grinned. Jack's brow furrowed. "Pirates we will always be. Henri Morgan is your friend. He's strong, fought slavery and is now ranging the open ocean."

"Henri is an idiot." Jack replied. Emily laughed quietly. They stayed like that for hours, until the sun began to rise. Jack didn't know when he had fallen asleep but, when he awoke at dawn him and his daughter were the only people left in the room to wake up.

Months passed and still he stayed in the house where his wife had left. Margot had remained, caring for baby Morgan and Jack, who was in no shape to care for himself. He sat in the bedroom all day and well into the night, staring out the window at the ocean below. Friends, mostly pirates came in and out to see him, even Morgan himself who was delighted at the name of Jack's daughter. It all came for naught. Jack didn't acknowledge any of them and soon, visitor were only Margot with Morgan, and Key himself.

"Your brother is coming." Key said one day, sitting on the bed, watching his son stare out the window. Jack blinked but remained quiet. "Will jr is five now, you know. Bill was telling me in the letter." Jack remained silent.

Margot entered and placed a tray of tea on the table, Morgan balanced precariously in her arms. She gave Jack a worried look and left. Key looked him over to. He was thin and pale, his ragged brown hair sticking out in odd places. Key shook his head and moved from the bed to the window.

"John." He leaned down next to him and placed both hands on Jack's right arm. The young man neither moved nor made any sign that he felt him there. "John…Jack?" Jack's eyes flickered and slowly he focused on his father's face. "Look at you."

Jack let out a shuttering breath and looked away. Finally he spoke, his voice holding the crackle of one who hasn't been used in months. "I have to leave."

"Leave?" Key asked. "Leave, where?"

"I have to get out of here. Morgan will be safe with Margot…she'll be okay. Only for a few months, leave with Bill when he comes…leave on the ocean just, sail away." His face shook, as though he was trying to contain the misery raging inside of him. "I need something to latch onto, to pour myself into."

"Another woman?" Key asked. "A ship? John, you have a daughter! You need to worry about her right now."

"Don't give me that!" Jack yelled springing up. He threw the chair across the room where it smashed against the wall. Key didn't move. He just seemed to be resigned to the fact that Jack was a child or something. "I loved her! I did…I do! This is for her, not for me."

"Bullshit!" Key growled, grabbing Jack and throwing him onto the bed. Jack lay there, surprised and his eyes widened when Key sat down on his stomach and held a knife to his throat. "Do what you have to do but don't say it's for Morgan." He growled. Jack winced as the blade scraped his skin. "Don't blame her, either." Jack's eyes narrowed. He seemed to forget his father was a pirate, angry and had a knife to his throat.

"I'm not blaming her." He said, his head rolling to the left. He stared at the window again which just made Key even angrier.

"I blamed you for the longest time when your mother died." He said. Jack's head whipped back to stare at his father. "Then I realized I love you to much to punish you for something beyond your control. Do the same for Morgan, make her proud." He slipped off his child and resheathed his dagger.

Jack breathed deep, able to draw in breath again. He sat up and watched Key cross the room and move to the door. "If you really must, leave. But don't look for my forgiveness when you realize you've made a mistake." And with that, he left.

Margot was the same. Jack didn't tell her about his intentions until Bill had turned up, looking bed ragged and somber. He'd expressed his deepest sympathy, surprised at the state Jack had fallen into. After a week in Jack's house, he'd left for his ship, to wait for his newest crew member while Jack stayed behind for a few minutes with his sister-in-law and a daughter he had only held twice.

"I'll be back before you know it." He said sincerely. "You can bet Key will be around sometimes, to check on her while I'm gone." Margot gave him a worried look.

"I don't like you leaving with…_them._" She said. Jack sighed.

"I'll be fine. Back before you know it. I'll be in the Caribbean for a few months and then I'll come home." Margot raised a finger to admonish him but her placed a hand on hers and lowered it. "I won't drink." He smiled. "I promise."

Morgan's basket was in the corner, on a table. Inside, she squirmed around, trying to pull o her blankets and suck her toes. Jack leaned over the basket and looked down at the child he could have loved. Kissing her cheek, he whispered, "I love you." In her ear before disentangling his hair from her grip and leaving…never to look back.

Back in the present, Jack woke slowly, Anamaria's hand on his forehead. Her voice was soft and soothing, trying to wake him without getting hit. Jack blinked and stared around, trying to get his bearings. Anamaria was wrapped in his long coat, her provocative night dress covered. She looked worried as she held a cup of steaming liquid to his lips.

"Are you awake?" She asked tentatively. Jack shook his head trying to clear it and sat up a little straighter in bed. When had he fallen asleep?

"Yes." He said, blinking rapidly to clear the fog in his brain. The pain in his back from the glass shards was nearly unbearable but not as bad as the pain in his heart. "Morgan."

The whispered word brought tears to his eyes as though he had just left her again. He'd never gone back…and he had no one to tell or complain to.

"What?" Anamaria asked sharply, leaning closer. Jack shook his head and allowed her to raise the cup to his lips. It was spiced tea…he hated tea.

"No, please." He pushed her hand away and turned his attention to Gibbs who was standing off to the side watching them both, looking grumpy and shooting Anamaria dirty looks. "What happened?"

"We couldn't wake you up." Anamaria answered, still holding the tea. "You were yelling so loud, that little girl came up on deck with her mom and asked what happened." The words, 'little girl' rattled him. He got out of bed, pulled on some pants, ignoring Gibbs who had turned around and faced the wall the moment he moved the covers. When he was a little more decent he pulled on his boots and left, moving out into the cool night and hissing as the cold air whistled through the holes in his back.

Marty was still there, asleep, entwined in a very peculiar way with the wheel. They were about a mile off course and Jack wasn't happy. After sending the little man off to bed, he took the wheel himself and began moving his ship back to where she should be.

This had been it, the thing he had poured himself into. He'd left his daughter and used the Pearl as his pain outlet, his ship and his rum. They were all he had left. Staring up at the stars, he could feel Emily's disappointment with him more clearly then ever before.

"Gibbs!" He called. Gibbs came to the captain's cabin door and looked out at him. "Bring me rum and hurry." He had to drown the sorrow again.

**Hey everyone! I hope you liked it. I've been convinced to continue with author responses so, here goes: **

**Blackmagic: **Hey! Yeah, that girl died. It wasn't a stupid question at all, I didn't say I don't think. Yes, she died. Sad, really. I've taken many POTC quizzes, their awesome! Anyway, keep reading.

**Oocssuck: **LOL, well, I'm still alive…I think. Anyway, yes, Bill will feel icky when he realizes this is his brother's daughter on board. You'll find out more about Morgan's past later and why she dropped off the map from her family. Well, Jack never looked back, but one of her family did keep an eye on her and you'll see who later. LOL. Thanks for the review and I hope your still with me.

**TO ANYONE I MAY HAVE FORGOTTEN OR ISN'T REVIEWING, THANK YOU TOO. **


	8. Black Spot

Hey everyone! Well, quicker update then last time! I'm bringing everything together for the adventure, so bear with me. I have a very harsh cliffie at the end that you'll all hate me for…

Anyway, if you don't remember Harry Brown, he was one of Jack's friends from the first chapter. For more info, you can check it out. He was one of the ones who saw the light. Happy reading!

**Chapter 8**

**Black Spot**

Morgan growled as the knife in her hand slipped over her index finger. Cursing, she placed the throbbing digit in her mouth and turned to glare at the uneasy young man who had called her name. Daniel Morraine stood in the galley doorway, his thin frame trembling as he called for her again. "Miss Reid? Um, the cap'n wants to talk to you."

"Tell him to wait, I'm busy." Turning back to her work, Morgan pulled her bleeding finger from her mouth and wrapped it in a small scrap of cloth. Behind her, she knew Daniel was still standing there. Finally, he spoke.

"Cap'n Turner persisted." He said, his voice thin. He was so scared of her…it made her laugh to think of it. Of course, he should be scared of her. Every man who looked at her sideways paid for their effort. Of course, this act was hard for her to keep up. The art of living on a ship full of lusty men was a gift she'd inherited from somewhere. She had the art of turning herself into something she wasn't, and she'd never been a mean woman.

"Fine." She said finally. Turning to the cook, who lay in a hammock in the corner of the kitchen, she took the bloody rag, rolled in into a ball and chucked it at him. It hit him in the face and bounced off onto the floor with a dull flump. The man looked up, his eyes red from drinking, and grumbled at her. "Your turn!" She called.

Following Daniel up the stairs, she emerged into the starry night. Cool air wafted off the sea and hit her in the face. A small island floated to their left but they were passing it quickly by. With a sigh, she by-passed the young man beside her and knocked on the door hard. There was a long pause before Bill Turner's husky voice called from with in.

"Come in, Charlotte." Cringing, she pushed inside the cabin. Behind her, the men laughed perversely, obviously thinking the worst of the visit between Captain and young cabin girl. Glaring over her shoulder she shut them out with a loud snap of the door.

The cabin was lit with pale, flickering orange light from the table in the cabin's middle. It smelled of sweat and spice, an odd combination. The captain sat at the table, hunched over a map, his strong hands moving over the lines of islands before him. Morgan approached cautiously, eyeing the rum bottle beside him.

"You wanted to see me, Captain?" Morgan asked roughly. Bill nodded and glanced up, motioning her into the chair opposite him. "What about?"

"I'm following Jack Sparrow." He said quietly, still hunched over the map. Morgan shifted in her seat, struggling with the weight in her chest. "He's moving back toward Port Royal. We're turning around."

"Turning?" Morgan said, slightly surprised. It was strange, that he was doing all this for her. "I thought that we were going to Tortuga."

Bill looked up then, his dark eyes catching the light of the candle and throwing his face into sharp relief. He was handsome at one time, she was sure. Years of torture had turned him dull and scarred but the hint of sex appeal still lingered. "Are you regretting you're decision?" He asked. Morgan shook her head. "Then don't complain."

"I'm not…thank you." Morgan said quickly, squirming slightly. For a while they sat in silence, the two staring at each other.

Bill broke the silence. "Tell me about yourself, Charlotte." He grabbed a glass from the edge of the table, poured her a glass of rum and pushed it across the table. Morgan took the glass apprehensively and sniffed at the brown liquid with in, her nose wrinkling. Bill laughed and took a swig from the bottle.

"Well…I grew up in Britain with my aunt, Margot." She said, sipping at the rum. It was disgusting. "When she died I moved to Port Royal and took up a job in the Commodore's house. That was four years ago." Bill nodded and took another swig of rum.

"And, your parents?" He asked. Morgan shrugged and took a larger sip of rum. Coughing, she cleared her throat.

"My mother died when I was born and, my aunt says that my father took off soon after and never returned." Bill nodded, such happened often. But there was a strange glint in his eyes.

Jack Sparrow, not knowing his daughter was out for revenge, sat on deck in the rain, large pelts slapping him on the face and head. They were docked off the coast of the Isla De Muerta, waiting for the storm to pass so they could row to shore and collect more funds before hitting the streets of Port Royal.

The rain began to pound harder but Jack's thoughts were lost. Just hours previously, while seeking a new bandana from a bow under his bed; he'd discovered something that sent chills through his blood. Something that scared him and confused him at the same time. Now he held the offending object in his clenched fist, black ink running in rivers through his fingers and down his arm, falling into puddles on the swaying deck. Lightning flashed but Jack hardly flinched.

Anamaria watched him from the safety of the captain's cabin for sometime before moving out into the rain. When she reached him, she grew worried as shudders racked his body. "Jack?" She asked. Jack looked up slowly, water dripping from his eyelashes. Anamaria reached out a hand and ran it down his cheek. "Come inside. Your thoughts can't be that deep."

Jack lifted his ink stained hand and opened his palm. Anamaria gasped and stepped back before grabbing the crumpled paper from his grip. Looping letters spelled, "To Jack, From Marko." A few days previous date was in the corner, and in the middle was a large black ink circle. It was smudged and ran in places but still the mark of death, no matter how you looked at it.

"He was on our ship." Jack said quietly, his voice hardly rising above the loud rolls of thunder and pounding of the rain. "How did he get on our ship?"

Anamaria threw the paper over the railing and grabbed her lover, roughly leading him back to the cabin. When they were stripped of their wet clothing and under the warm covers of Jack's bed, Anamaria held him close to her, feeling his heart pound against her chest. With fearful eyes, she watched the shadowy corners of the cabin. "I will never let him harm you, Jack." She told him firmly. "He won't get us."

Days later, the fear in their hearts was still strong. Jack had beaten Marko many times before but the black mark was a thing dreaded by any pirate. The last person who had received one, that he'd known, had died days later. Many had died of the mark, it wasn't an omen of death, it was a cause.

The rain had relented for a few hours, long enough to get to the island and stock up on ill gotten gains. Now they were heading on a straight course for Port Royal, or as straight as you could get in this storm.

The rolling waves were knocking men left and right but, through some sheer miracle, no one had yet died. Now Jack was praying to see the end of this blight and get on to more calm waters. He hated storms, even if they were the bearers of exhilaration.

A scream, thin and reedy in the wind, squealing, cut through the rain as though it could run through the droplets, and hit him hard. There were men standing at the railing, leaning over the side, with Victoria screaming and reaching out into the black abyss of water below.

Jack abandoned the wheel and raced across the deck, hitting the rail hard. Below were tossing waves and nothing more. "Lyddie!" Victoria screamed frantically. Jack stared at her. The little girl? Why would she be in the water? "Please! My daughter…"

Jack didn't even stop to think before stripping off his jacket and throwing it to Anamaria, who looked shocked. The leap into the water was fast and clean. He sliced the choppy surface and was beneath the waves before he knew what he'd done.

The moment he surfaced he was hit by a surprise, or rather a ship. The waves slammed him into the side of the Black Pearl with such force that the wind was knocked completely out of him. Jack cried out and moved along the black deck, slamming into the boards every other wave. Soon, he was free of the ship and swimming with the current out and away, as hard and fast as he could, searching. He knew it was foolish, he knew he was being foolhardy but it was all he could think about. The dreams he'd been having lately spurred him. He'd left his child; he wouldn't abandon this one too, no matter how unpleasant he found her.

"Lyddie!" He called against the howling wind. There was no answer but the call of the sea, trying to drag him under. She was the mightiest bitch in the world, and at the moment she was trying to claim him as her own. "Lyd…" He was swept beneath the waves.

Below him, in the dark, was a lock of floating blond hair. Striking down, he reached out and grabbed the floating lock. Pulling, he revealed a head, and finally the body of the little girl who, so recently, had been safe on his decks.

Wrapping his arm around the small little body, he pulled her up to the surface. Filling his lungs with the sweat, salt air, he lifted the girl higher and held her head above the unrelenting waves. She was cold and limp and unresponsive. Jack shook her, still trying to keep them both above the waves. The Black Pearl was gone, he couldn't see her on the horizon any way he looked. Panic set in but the small being in his arms needed him now too.

"Lyddie." He gulped, water slapping his mouth. The little girl didn't move. Jack pressed his cheek to hers and gripped her to him tighter. They were sinking slowly into the black oblivion.

Harry Brown, a freebooter since childhood, sat safely inside the captain's cabin. He tried to take his mind off his worries. His premonitions were getting worse, the dreams growing stronger. He saw his friend's faces, faces he hadn't seen in years, so clearly that he could reach out and touch them.

Brain Williams walking out of bright light, Peter, with his flaming red hair, laughing at him…and Jack, holding a small girl…drowning…dying.

A knock on his door snapped him from his thoughts. The storm had blown them way off course and he was worried that they had hit another snag in their journey. "Come in!" He called. The door opened and revealed his first mate, Donald Aerlin. Don looked worried and wetter then a drowned rat.

"Sir, there are men overboard…well, not really 'men' per say. We got them up, they're both dead."

Harry sprang to his feet and passed his first mate, pushing into the driving rain. There lay two figures, one a man, the other a small girl. Harry felt his heart clench in fear.

"Jack!" He screamed, racing to his old friend's side. Jack was cold and not moving. Frantically, he looked up at the men around him. His worst fears were coming true…

**To My Reviewer: **

**forceflow46:** LOL. Well, I'm glad u liked Ghost Ship; I'll be updating that one again soon. Probably tomorrow. Anyway, I hope you liked this chapter. I'll be sending you an email tonight to tell you it's been updated.

**AND TO ANYONE WHO I MAY HAVE MISSED, OR IS JUST NOT REVIEWING, THANK YOU TOO!**


	9. Little Liddy’s Squeaky Voice

**Hey everyone! Sorry for the wait! Anyway, I hope you all liked it!**

**I don't own POTC…I wish!**

**Chapter Nine**

**Little Liddy's Squeaky Voice**

The Pearl floated in the residual calm after the storm. The waves had calmed and now quiet grief hung thick in the air. Anamaria was silent and staring, steering the ship around the far end of the small island they had strayed on the edge of the night before. Her heart was visibly torn in two and she couldn't help the tears that formed in her eyes.

Marty had taken Victoria below deck hours ago, the woman's loud wails of grief over powering the singing of the surf. Now the deck was quiet as the grave. Their captain was gone and they were alone…she was alone.

The night before had left her numb but she could still feel the deep panic as she had raced along the railing, staring into the gray, swirling water below, wincing as Jack was slammed against the hull…and then he was gone, swept away by the waves that last night had been so hungry for pirate flesh. Blinking she turned away, _Jack's dead. _The words made her stomach swoop and her heart clench. It was impossible to believe the sea had betrayed him and her. The sea, their home, Jack's mistress…

Gibbs came to her slowly, his eyes rimmed with red from lack of sleep, his face pale from grief. How many years had he known Jack? How many late nights had they stayed up under the starlight, talking, laughing and drinking. Now those nights would never come again. She'd lost him once already and such grief had been nearly unbearable. Now it was starting all over again.

"How are you doing, lass?" Gibbs asked quietly. Anamaria didn't even blink, her gaze fixed on the rising and falling horizon. "Mrs. Williams is below, her poor little girl." He trailed off, staring at the deck. "The men are demanding a funeral service."

"We'll be in Port Royal tomorrow." Anamaria said softly, blinking away the stinging in her eyes. She wished nothing more then for Gibbs to leave her, but he didn't.

"You should go rest, miss." Gibbs said, trying to take the wheel. Anamaria pushed him away and shook her head. Her sleeping place was beside Jack, in the Captain's cabin, in his bed. The room reeked of him; in a soft and warming way…she could never go there. She'd die of exhaustion before desecrating his memory.

"I'll be fine, Gibbs. Leave, go do something." He opened his mouth but she stopped him. "Leave before I stick something in your mouth." He eyed her sword and then walked away, allowing her to drown in her grief.

William Turner pulled open his shop door a little harder then he had intended. Calming himself, he pulled in a deep breath, closed his eyes and leaned against the doorframe. Splinters of old wood poked his shoulder but it felt oddly calming today, like pain could cut away at the jealousy that he felt inside.

Oh, James Norrington was good! A gentleman to a fault? Hardly. Will opened his eyes and entered the cool safety of his shop. Usually so stuffy and warm, today it was cold and almost forbidding, as though better times had been seen in here. His eyes moved around the room and found the small bench beside the fire pit. He and Elizabeth had spent so many nights on that bench, talking and laughing…

Will closed the door and rushed to the furnace. He had to find a way to keep himself occupied. It would not do well to go back to the house and kill a Commodore of the Royal Navy. He was sure that not many people, including his wife, would be very happy about it.

Stoking the fire, he began gathering gear together. A large order had come in from the fort for horseshoes, such an order demanding his attention for the next few days. His mind began to wander as he worked; occasionally passing over what he envisioned Norrington and Elizabeth were doing at that very moment. Ruth was at a friend's house, he was glad for that. The less time she spent with that pompous…

"Ouch!" Will yelled as his hammer made contact with three of his fingers. Sticking the throbbing digits in his mouth, he tried to ease the pain while absorbing the taste of metal work.

"You may want to be careful." A voice said behind him. Will whipped around and backed into the stone behind him, heat rising up his back as the fire heat pressed against him. There was a man in the doorway, shrouded in black. The afternoon light illuminated his black cloak from behind and obscured his face completely. Will reached out; trying to grasp a nearby work in progress sword but the man's arm extended and pointed a gun at him. Will stopped. "Like your father, aren't you?" The man was sneering.

"Who are you?" Will asked, his voice more tense then he had intended it to be. The man was so still, his arm so steady, he could have been made of stone. Will lowered his arm and decided to play along. If absolute need arose, he would make another reach for the sword.

"You don't recognize me?" Will frowned and listened closer to the voice. It sounded familiar but he couldn't place it. "Jack is heading this way and I have a message for you to give him." Will shook his head and the man advanced a few steps. "Or your beautiful little daughter, Ruth, will be forfeit."

Will's heart clenched and he lunged for the sword. Before he could reach it, however, a knife buried itself in the wood shelf beside his hand. Will cried out in shock and pulled away, stumbling for a second over a few tools that fell as he wheeled. When he turned back to the stranger, the man was still in the doorway.

He threw a wadded up ball of paper onto the shop's dusty floor. "That is for Jack, with this message: I'm watching." Will felt anger bubble in his stomach for a moment but it subsided when the man laughed. "Goodbye William Turner, we shall meet again." And the man was gone. Will grabbed his sword and rushed to the doorway. The man was gone, only throngs of shoppers and navy could be seen.

The paper was balled into a tight wad but with careful ease he managed to unwrap it. There was only one thing on its faded yellow surface…a large black dot.

The crew of the Black Pearl stood in absolute silence. Port Royal was over the hills, hidden from their view. Jack had long ago found this secret hiding spot, large enough and secluded enough to divert the watchful eye of James Norrington. Anamaria let her eyes wander across the deck, stopping on no one man, past the burning lanterns hanging from the rigging, and across the black ocean to the island. Dark trees swayed in the light wind and waves lapped the boulders along the rocky beach.

"…Forever." Gibbs finished, his voice weak and strained as though he were about to break down. Anamaria bowed her head with the rest of the men and tried to block out the sound of Marty sniffing beside her. "Would anyone else like to say a few words?"

Anamaria looked up at the old man and glared. How could she dredge up words for the man she loved? Gibbs watched her, his face thrown into sharp relief by the candlelight. He looked so much more worn then she had seen him earlier that day. No one said a thing and the silence seemed to drag on for hours. Finally, Gibbs made a strange guttural sound so Anamaria took it into her own hands.

"Drinks all around!" She cried, her voice stronger then she had thought it would be. The men looked up at her in surprise but she had long ago lost any embarrassment around them. "Drinks all around in honor of Jack!" Gibbs smiled at her and began passing out the cups.

In a few hours the men were seated, drinking until they dropped. One of the men had begun a story telling ring and now they all laughed at the exploits of the man they had grown to love.

"I wasn't sure exactly what he was doing," Montroy laughed, his eyes in his cup. "But he suddenly slipped off the side of the pier and into the water." The men laughed harder, some remembering the night in Tortuga very well, others imagining what had happened. They all sat in silence for a moment, lost in their thoughts.

"Did I ever mention the time Jack…"

Pulling into the Port Royal bay, the _Manacled Queen, _under the captaincy of Harry Brown was solemn and quiet. All men were focused on the job at hand, getting in close to Port Royal. Although they were a pirate ship, they had never gained the fame that the Black Pearl had, nor any other famous Pirate ship. It brought no good, for all the legendary captains seemed to die a gruesome death. All the men dared not say anything to their captain at the moment, however, for he seemed to be worried beyond comprehension.

Harry Brown paced the deck, his eyes on the port town while his mind wandered to his cabin. That little girl had refused to leave, not even when he had offered her food on the deck. She seemed to be attached to Jack, refusing to leave him. It was probably fear and the need for a familiar face that kept her there…he'd never known Jack to like kids.

"We'll need to re-supply and head out immediately, captain." Froshier said quietly, watching the shore with a little bit of fear. No one liked being so close to that ponce, Norrington. Legends were spreading that one look from the man could find you magically on the gallows with your feet kicking a second later. Harry Brown sighed and nodded. In and out was the plan.

Jack Sparrow was still asleep, his bare chest rising and falling slowly. He looked so peaceful, almost dead, that the little girl sitting beside him, humming, couldn't bring herself to wake him.

Her young mind still couldn't grasp exactly what had happened. He hated her, something she felt saddened by. He had also saved her, something confusing in itself. Her memories of waking up, wet and cold with a man bending over her, calling to her still frightened her. She had been terrified until she'd seen Jack lying next to her, cold and pale…unmoving.

She'd only seen one dead person in her whole life, her friend. She'd died of brain fever a few months before, and Lydia still missed her terribly but it came to her in dreams, something she couldn't black out.

Now Jack was fine, alive but asleep. Lydia reached out a small hand and touched one of the two braids on his chin. He didn't move as her hand trailed over the rough hair and spun the bead around at the base.

Then her hand began to move again, over the trinkets in his black hair. There were braids here too, and dreadlocks which she tugged lightly on. He still didn't move. Biting her lip, she continued, moving her small face right in close to examine some of the pictures on the beads.

With her index finger, she began to poke and prod at the bullet holes on his chest until his gruff voice spoke, making her jump in alarm. "You better be a gorgeous woman."

Lydia giggled and Jack opened his eyes. For a moment, he blinked, trying to pull the room around him and her small little face into focus. She was disheveled and salty flakes were still matted to her cheek but other wise she was unhurt. Him, on the other hand…

"We're still alive?" He asked, blinking and bringing a hand to his aching head. Lydia laughed again which sent a stab of pain through his forehead. "Please, quiet."

"I had breakfast." Lydia said, smiling at him. Jack didn't return her show of happiness but glared at her as if she was some thing on the bottom of the ocean. "There are really nice men aboard here. The Captain is nicer then you."

Jack sat up slowly and shook his dark hair from his face, choosing to reply when he felt the need. "The captain is nicer then me probably because he's a…"

"Now, do you really want to finish that sentence, Sparrow?" A deep voice from the doorway asked. Jack turned his head so sharply his head swam and he had to lay back down to get his bearings. Harry Brown, a face he hadn't set eyes on in years, was standing in the doorway, smiling at him with a tankard in his hands. "Long time no see."

"Not long enough." Jack growled. "Is that for me?" Harry held up the tankard and came over to his friend, sitting down beside Lydia. He handed Jack the tankard who in turn drank the water inside with one long gulp.

"Thirsty?" Harry smirked. "Where's your ship?" Jack closed his eyes and tried to focus. Where was his ship?

"I don't know. Maybe I flew out here." He answered. Lydia giggled and played with the comforter that covered him, tracing the red swirl pattern in it's depths.

"Maybe. You always were a little light on you're…" Jack smiled.

"Do you really want to finish that sentence, Brown?" He asked. Harry laughed and picked up his shirt off the floor. It was still damp and crusty from the salt water.

"Dress and we'll find your wings." With that, he took hold of Liddy's little hand and tried to lead her from the room. The little girl wouldn't budge, though.

"No, I want to stay with Jack…" Jack cringed. Her squeaky voice was making his head pound harder.

"No, leave!" Jack hissed, closing his eyes to block out the moonlight all around him. "Go eat something." Even the thought of food made Jack's stomach turn.

"Yes, come on Liddy." Harry soothing voice said. "We have to get you some supper and my men are going into town for supplies. Then we're going to find you're mother…besides, Jack's not wearing anything."

Jack's eyes snapped open and he turned his head to watch the two depart. He'd lost his pants many times but…Harry peaked his head back in. "Hurry up, Sparrow, let's go!" Just like old times. Harry laughed and closed the door.

Jack sighed and grabbed the pillow behind him, lifted it to his face and screamed into it in frustration. Why did everything have to happen to him?

**To my reviewers: **

**blackmagic365**: lol, well, I'm glad you're still reading my little story. I have a lot of material to get through!

**forceflow46**: Ok, thanks. Well, I'll try with the email again, I saw it didn't work last time with Ghost Ship, so we'll see.

**Madmaz**: Hi! I'm glad you like it and I'm sorry about the whole cliffhanger thing…one thing though, I do it a lot so I'll apologize now. LoL. Thanks for the reviews!

**AND TO ANYONE I MAY HAVE MISSED OR WHO ISN'T REVIEWING, THANK YOU TOO!**


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